It's not that i don't think I have something to say...it's that I don't want to know what someone is going to say back.
I've read heartfelt stories and testimonies online and gasped at the callous responses of ignorant human beings....had they an ounce of pain of the author...their words would eat away at their core.
So I sit and think of all the things I want to say, I write in my head, file it away, and it's safe. I can be my own critic...and trust me I am.
And yet...there is something about this time of year...the tree goes up, the lists get written or texted to me (as my 12 year old has done this year...she's edited it 3 times if you would like to know)...we read the lists of my youngest...a 1st grader now and laugh at the innocence and the pure undiluted joy he has, full of selfish desire..what will Santa bring?
...the music...the laughter...
the memories....
the empty seat..
the tightening in my chest...
the heaviness...
and like a cancer that never really goes away...there it is...
the void...
And then I can't help but open a page that's blank...and words that are scrambled in my brain form and through tears I process it...again. I pray and I ask God if the pain in my chest...that place where his little body has forever left a mark...the weight of the void...will it ever lessen.
No...I think the answer is no.
I'm sad.
There!
I said it. I AM SAD
I used to hate my birthday because it brought so much fear for me and now that fear can't hold a candle to the void I feel this time of year.
I want to know my almost nine year old son! I want to hear his voice. I want to know what his laugh is like. What color did his hair turn out to be? Is he tone def like his grandpa? Or does he sing like his beautiful sister? What would his interests be now? Football? Soccer? Piano? Writing?
I'm sure his little brother would drive him nuts but you know what? I bet his little brother would be a happier boy if he was with us...he misses you so...how is that possible? Did you know him first? Have you met your Great Grandpa? He is beautiful isn't he?
I'm so glad you don't have a void. You are blessed. At home with saints. Loved. Cherished. Protected.
Most of the time all of these thoughts of what you must be experiencing bring me peace...but during Christmas...that peace is clouded a little. I'm just being honest. The void. It hurts.
So on Christmas morning we will laugh and celebrate and remember Jesus. We will talk about what to play with next and then dad and I will collapse from exhaustion. And then...8 days later...we will cry...your daddy and me...quietly...privately...
I'll play that day over in my head almost as if ... if I do it long enough...hard enough...i could rewrite history. Desperate wishful thinking. And in the midst of all of it...I hope you hear me every time I say I love you. I hope my words 'i miss you' sound joyful and hopeful. I hope the words meet your ears with that peace only a mama's embrace could have...and I will hold my chest as if to hold you again..just one more time. I love you Isaac.
Love mom.
